


No Rushing This

by Lakeylou



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 22:00:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4936915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lakeylou/pseuds/Lakeylou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts off exciting then Lizzie notices there's something bothering  Red.... Lizzington.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Rushing This

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own The Blacklist or the characters. *Warning for very fluffy story lol*

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong.”

Lizzie rolls on her side, tucks away the few strands of hair that have fallen over her eyes. She tugs at the messy bun on top of her head, loosening it, so it stops the strain on her hair line. Lizzie moves towards him–just an inch or two because they are already close–and presses her lips to his again. With a hand on his chest, her fingers curl around the fabric of his shirt, and she catches his bottom lip and pulls gently. Red's eyes fall close; they quiver behind his eyelids, and she feels the bed sink as his body instinctively shuffles closer. Then, just after she's grabbed his hand and placed it on her left hip, Red pulls away from the kiss, pushes the palm resting on her hip down, so she rolls on to her back.

Liz stares up at him; her eyes widen with mild surprise, desire. She needs a drink, something cold with ice cubes because his hand is scorching hot. But there's something firm about the way his hand is placed on her waist. He's keeping her at a distant. Red's pulled away for the second time now, but then he is hovering above her, so close, and she can't help but think finally. The light above them is still on, and even though it’s dim she likes being able to see him. His kind face full of reverence, but she was right, there is something wrong, something bothering him. The green in his eyes is darker now, similar to the color of the pillow her head is resting on. 

“What is it?” She asks him again. She's a little breathless, needy, but she guesses that's what happens when you get thoroughly kissed by Red.

The hand on her waist moves, slowly, and slips under the hem of her flimsy shirt. Red brushes his palm back and forth across her stomach. It's a light touch, and his thumb grazes over her belly button. She stays still, feels her heart beat through her stomach. His thumb travels upwards and outlines each of her ribs. It's too difficult to control her breathing; her chest rises quickly, up and down and up and down. Lizzie watches him, keeps her eyes wide open because she wants to catch his gaze, but Red remains focused on his hand and its movements. His touch is warm and soft on her already hot stomach, and the fine hair on her arms stand when she thinks that this is as close as they’ve been, ever. She gets that feeling. That wonderful feeling that only happens when she stretches her entire body after a good nights sleep. It spreads through her, and she wants this feeling to last forever, thinks that it will if his hand keeps stroking her like this.

 

“You’re gorgeous, Lizzie…”

She smiles, feels her toes curl down at the end of the bed. But there’s something in his actions still, that niggles at the back of her mind, tells her he’s not quite ready yet. Perhaps, she knows this because he hasn’t looked at her since she asked him what was wrong, or maybe it’s because they still have all their clothes on and they’ve been in this bed for fifteen minutes now. But whatever it is, she knows Red needs to talk; she needs to get him to talk.

“You’re not ready?” She asks, licks her lips nervously and tries not to wonder if he's going to kiss her again tonight or not.

“Are you ready?” He replies deeply, finally lifting his gaze to look at her. He’s resting his head in his hand now; his elbow presses into the mattress. Red still has his shoes on, and his pants are wrinkled and bunched around each ankle, showing off his grey socks.

“Only if you’re ready,” Lizzie replies, crinkles her brow a little because she feels oddly confused. She's more than ready; she knows she is, but if Red's having second thoughts then she needs to stop hoping right now.

But Red just leans down, kisses her cheek-lingers his lips there–and curls his hand back around her waist. It’s not quite like him to shy away, she thinks, but he presses his face into the pillow her head is resting on. She can hear him breathe in her ear, feel his warm breath tickle down the arch of her neck. Lizzie smiles, blinks her eyes just once, slowly. This wasn’t exactly how she pictured their first time together, and she definitely did not expect this when they were climbing the stairs earlier, kissing each other rather clumsily, with a wild sort of desperation-last few minutes on earth kind of kissing-instead of watching their steps. It was almost dangerous she thinks now, but then they are both use to danger in their lives. There was a moment though, when she lay on her bed and waited for him to join, when Red just froze at the foot of the bed, just like a statue, watching her waiting for him. What was he thinking then?

Maybe he hears her thinking now, her mind spinning with some unwanted thoughts, because his hand moves from her side and strokes over her stomach again, and his voice–muffled by the pillow– speaks quietly into her ear.

“I don’t want to rush this, Lizzie.”

Lizzie nods slowly, and he can’t see it because he’s still hiding away, but hopefully he can feel it. She doesn't want to rush this either and especially not if he's feeling unsure about it now, or beginning to change his mind. She wonders what it was that scared him. He was all for the bedroom when she almost rolled off the couch.

“It’s been four years, you know,” she whispers. She's known him for so long now, can't quite pin point the moment she fell for him.

“Mmm,” He murmurs, lifts his head back up from the pillow and blinks down at her. “But we’ve both had an exceeding amount of alcohol tonight.”

“You think we’ve had too much?”

She hadn't really thought about it.

Red's tongue darts out, and the tip runs across his top lip. Is he tasting the wine on his lips? Or tasting her? She doesn't know but it's arousing all the same.

“I’m not entirely sure.” Red responds. His lips twist to the side, and she feels utterly transfixed by the movement, by him. 

Lizzie manages to nod somehow, tries to remember how many drinks she saw him have. But everything before their first kiss is kind of a blur now. What wine they were drinking? She has no clue. Scotch? Maybe. At least she remembers his lips she thinks–the taste, feel and smell of him–it’s the only important part really.

“Do you want to be here?” She asks, looking up at him.

“With you?”

“Yes.” She nods once, smiles at him again because he looks so serious and concerned, and she wants him to relax. “In this bed?”

“Well… it is a lovely bed…” He teases, his concern disappearing as soon as the left of his lip rises. “With a brilliant comforter. I often request to-”

“Red.”

He give a deep, satisfied chuckle and removes his hand from her stomach to run it up her arm instead. He takes care when his thumb runs over the scratches she received two days ago. There was some crazy cat hanging around her doorstep; it looked innocent enough, but she thinks now that it must have been wild and not familiar with human affection. 

"I told you not to pat the cat," he says, leaning down to press his lips to the three, red lines marking her skin.

"I know you did, and I didn't listen." She replies, closing her eyes when his lips touch her. It's right on that pale skin on the underside of her arm, just below her elbow. She's so sensitive there, and his lips sends a tingle straight to her heart. "But I'm asking you a question, Red."

“I do, Lizzie.” He says, moving again to rest on his side and look down at her laying there on her back. He reaches towards her head, fiddles with the black hair tie securing her hair and pulls it out. She lifts her head, lets her dark hair fall. It's damp still from her earlier shower, so it's nice and cool on her neck.

“I do too.” She smiles up at him, then lifts her hand and places it on his forehead. “But are you feeling alright?"

Red sniffs, looks a tad ashamed when he says, “I’ve had a little more to drink that I originally wanted to... had planned to.”

"So,” Lizzie says, trailing her hand down his cheek, tracing the pad of her thumb under his left eye. She wants to erase the tired blue there, wants him to never be exhausted again. “I have a drunk Raymond Reddington in my bed. That’s a first.”

“Tonight has been filled of many firsts.”

“It has.”

“Hmm,” He hums happily, presses his lips to the corner of her mouth. “Like I said, Lizzie. I don’t want to rush this. Not with you… and not when I can’t live up to my… full potential.”

Lizzie grins, pushes him on the chest, so he falls on to his back on the other side of the bed. They aren't even under the covers, she thinks, but it's summer and it's so hot outside that if he stays over they'll probably just sleep like this anyway. He's deflecting, she knows. Teasing and making jokes to disguise his deeper concerns. She'll allow it for a little longer.

“Well, I don’t want to take advantage of you either, Red.” Lizzie says, sitting up beside him and crossing her legs. She travels her eyes down the length of his body, catches his thumb twitching on his thigh. “I don’t want you to regret kissing me in the morning.”

“Oh, no, no, no.” He says alarmed, reaching for her shoulders and pulling her down next to him. “My god that will never happen. Impossible. Nonsense.”

Liz stretches her legs back out, lines them up next to his and nudges his calf with her toes. “You do promise then…" She says hesitantly, moving her own pillow closer to rest her head. "That… that this is something you want?”

"Yes.”

“Okay then,” Lizzie smiles, drapes an arm across his chest and fiddles with the sleeve of his white shirt. “But... can you promise me one more thing, Red. That you're not just saying there's no rush because you think that i'm going to be the one to regret being with you? You're not just saying no because you're worried about me, right?”

Red turns his head to the side, facing her. His stare is soft, tired, and scattering around her face to avoid her eye.

"It is me." Lizzie says. "You think I don't really want this."

"Mm," Red lifts his head from the pillow then drops it back down. "I wish I didn't, Lizzie, but honestly, sweetheart. I really can't help but think if this is really good for you... what you need and want... deserve... I worry about you. And what I may do to you." 

"It's okay." Lizzie responds. "I get it. I do." 

"I feel a 'but' coming on, Lizzie."

"But," Lizzie says, grinning at him. "You do believe me when I say I care about you, don't you? And that I have ... strong, and very... real feelings for you, right? Because they won't be going away, Red."

"I know you do, Lizzie." 

"Are you sure you know?" She asks, sitting up now. "I'm not sure you do."

"I do."

"I think they'll just get stronger."

"And that's what worries me."

"It's too late, Red." Lizzie breathes out, hangs her head back to look at the ceiling. "I'm sorry that this is difficult for you because I know it is," she says, looking back down at him. "And I understand you, and where you're coming from. But it's too late. My feelings for you aren't going to just stop because you're worried about me. "

"I know, Lizzie."

"You kissed me."

"Yeah."

"So... you shouldn't stop now. We should try this if you think you might want to. But if you push me away just because of my feelings and not yours, you're going to hurt me... badly." Lizzie responds, feels her cheeks go hot at the thought, and he's staring at her properly, fiercely, for the first time since he joined her on her bed. "Lets take this slow. Like you said, no rush."

"Alright."

Lizzie smiles, raises an eyebrow at him, and cocks her head to the side. "It's not very often I receive such short utterances from you."

"You've rendered me near speechless, Lizzie." Red replies, and finds her hand scrunched up tight in a fist. He unwraps her fingers, links their hands. "You're a ball of fire...indefatigable... and I've never wanted anybody or anything quite so much."

Lizzie grins, moves to lay down next to him again. "And after all that, Red, I'm sleepy. But slowly, yeah?"

"Yes, Lizzie. This is good. You are so good." He presses his lips to her forehead, leaves them there. "Goodnight."

She molds herself into him, thinks that this is not what she expected earlier, but maybe it's even better. She can do slow, likes slow. It feels right for them. He wraps his arms around her, and he holds her to him. His breathing evens out, and she thinks that it's nice she can make him a little less tired.


End file.
